Chapter 6
Bren
T remayne appears to age two hundred years before our eyes. The prospect that Addington might be raising an army of subservient supernaturals chills him as thoroughly as it does me.
“How did you reach the conclusion that each of your guardians is affected?” The old mage isn’t disbelieving; he’s gathering information. Knowledge is power.
“Kodi knows he was, and Walthers confirmed it. Using him as an example, we realized the parallels. Kodi’s mother died while giving birth to Kodi’s sister. His younger sibling was also injected but in ill health from her birth. Garrett’s mother and Avery’s mother died of childbirth complications. Bren’s mother is still alive but supposedly unwell. The brothers believe she might have given Addington permission to inject their child.” Zosia glances toward us again. “Did I describe that correctly?”
We all nod. It’s as accurate as any of us know.
“The situation is worse than I imagined,” Tremayne grumbles as he tugs fiercely on his beard. “These men didn’t invent the process of stealing magic. Centuries ago, it was used as a form of punishment in the worst circumstances – when a trial ascertained that a supernatural used their magic with ill intent. It was considered barbaric and extreme. When magic-dampening cuffs and cells were invented, harsher means became obsolete. How Addington or his mentor learned the process and gathered the necessary materials is as alarming as what he’s doing with the extracted magic. Altering life in-vitro is playing God.”
Zosia’s eyes spark with distracted curiosity. “Supernaturals believe in God?”
Tremayne startles as he’s shaken out of his grim thoughts, but I offer Zo a fond smile. I’d been slapped on the face when I asked a similar question as a child. She is the literal woman of my dreams because she’s appeared in my visions since they began, but she’s also all I’ve ever wanted in a woman. The thought of being separated nearly makes my magic spark in response. Her touch is the only thing that keeps me anchored.
The little lioness at my side flinches when she realizes what she’s done. “Fudgesticks. I didn’t mean to derail the conversation. My wayward tongue and my curiosity are in cahoots.”
I won’t contemplate that wayward tongue … too late. My body reacts without my permission and creates discomfort in my pants. Zosia is the only woman who has ever elicited desire in me with a thought or a word.
Thankfully, our guests are oblivious to my body and mind. Tremayne chuckles and Ansel offers Zo a weary smile. The library is strengthening him, but he won’t live past midnight. Is he prepared? Is anyone truly prepared to die?
“Don’t apologize. Your grandmother, mother, and almost every feline shifter I’ve come across share your curious nature. There’s a reason why cats are called curious.” The mage’s blue eyes twinkle. When he smiles, he reminds me of a thin Santa Claus. I like very few people, but he might be included in that number.
“I believe I can answer your question without leading us too far afield,” he continues. “Ansel told me you were raised in a magicless orphanage connected to a Christian charity. Like the magicless, there are as many variations of worship and deities among supernaturals. Abrahamic religions don’t represent the majority, though. Most supernaturals describe themselves as paganists as opposed to monotheists. They believe in the natural order of evolution. Therefore, tampering with the natural order is akin to playing God .”
Tremayne pauses briefly, weighing his words before speaking. “I don’t mean to sound condescending or disbelieving, but do you have any proof to substantiate your theories? It will be necessary if these men are tried for their crimes.”
“Walthers monologues like he’s a supervillain in a movie,” Kodi grumbles sullenly.
When he doesn’t continue, Avery explains. “When Addington visited yesterday, he baited Kodi by telling him his sister was still alive. Kodi was almost tethered again when he ventured away from the library. The rest of us worked together and traced the source of the tether to an electronic device in Walthers’ office.”
Kodi interrupts again, and his voice rings with remembered embarrassment and shame. He regrets taking the bait even though we’d managed to free him. “The blabbermouth told me all about what he and Addington had done already and what they planned to do yet.”
“He implied that he made all of us,” Avery adds.
“I know how Addington operates. He won’t give up until he succeeds, and he won’t engage in any transaction without a written contract.” My brother’s tone is sour as he recalls what our father taught him. Garrett never intended to assume control of the alpha’s empire, but he was determined to destroy our father. The lessons provided him with valuable insight. “If he has an agreement with the magicless, he will possess written proof. He also maintains records of the bribes and blackmails he’s employed with his business partners.”
“The magicless also maintain detailed records,” Zosia adds.
I’m enthralled and impressed with the seamless manner of this conversation. It reminds me of a carefully rehearsed dance where we each step in to contribute assistance to the refrain. It’s a favorable omen for the future of our relationship.
“The prison I escaped from has to be near Centreville Hospital. The surrounding geographical area records births and deaths. We could research stillbirths and maternal mortality. I don’t know if the latter is related, however. Bren’s mother survived, and Kodi’s mother lived to bear another.”
“My case is unique as well. The death of my mother might have been because of my nature and not the injection. Carrying a vampire to term is supposed to be nearly impossible.”
Tremayne takes in every detail as he methodically strokes his beard. Is it spelled to absorb information like a sponge? I nearly giggle at the thought. I’ve heard of stranger enchantments.
“What’s the integrity of the supernatural authorities and law enforcement – particularly the BSP? Is it less or more corrupt than Apocrypha’s employees?”
Zosia’s question distracts me from the contemplation of enchanted beards. She doesn’t pull her punches. I will be proud to call her my mate when … if … the time comes. Ansel’s face flushes with shame and his gaze lowers to the table.
Tremayne is either too old or too accustomed to the emotion to succumb. His expression doesn’t change as he replies without hesitation. “That’s a good question. Supernatural enforcers are similar to their magicless counterparts, and they are all human. Each individual is just as corruptible as any other is. However …, I’ve always believed that the BSP is different. Their detectives are a specialized breed capable of sensing truth and supposedly gifted with moral integrity. I cannot confirm that, though, and I cannot assure you that everyone at the BSP is righteous and trustworthy.”
“One never can,” Ansel murmurs with a heavy sigh. He doesn’t appear more or less energetic than he had earlier. The library is providing him with a steady trickle of strength.
Tremayne taps his finger on the table and meets Zo’s gaze. “While we’re on the subject, I want to apologize on behalf of Apocrypha – even if I don’t possess the authority to do so. The academy has always held the potential for fraudulent dealings because it was founded by powerful and biased people. Still, the decay spread rapidly once Walthers became the OSC delegate during your grandmother’s time. He has slowly replaced anyone who might put ethics or morality above other factors. If any remain, they are likely being exploited. When I started teaching here, the student body wasn’t as elite as it is now. Money and power can breed corruption. In this sense, the magicless and supernatural communities are no different.”
“Will removing Walthers alter the makeup of its elitist clientele?” Zo’s question is followed by a shake of her head. “Actually, don’t answer that. I’m getting off-topic again. The academy isn’t our biggest concern right now. If the BSP thrives on integrity, can we divert them toward Addington’s illegal activities instead of Bren’s magic?”
Tremayne considers his reply while I fidget with the hem of my t-shirt. This one will have to be thrown away, but it isn’t the first I’ve had to abandon. Sitting still is driving me insane, and the only thing keeping me in place is Zosia’s soft hand in mine. Half distracted, I study the calluses on her palms and fingers that were created from years of using the braces or propelling her wheelchair. I adore the physical evidence of her strength.
“They might be interested, but they won’t forego their initial purpose. Atmospheric mages are very rare. Their superiors will pressure them to investigate.”
I feel Tremayne’s gaze on me, but I don’t look up. I already know what he’s going to say.
“Powerful weather mages are referred to as weapons of mass destruction. They’re considered a threat if they don’t display exemplary control over their magic. Unfortunately, this particular area is heavily populated, and the detectives might be under orders to prevent possible casualties. The elite student body we mentioned is comprised of the progeny of the most influential supernaturals. If there’s any danger to them ….” The mage’s words trail away.
My dread grows, but I appreciate the old man’s honesty. One power is a threat, and the other is useless. What’s the point of my visions if they can’t warn me of danger? Zosia clings to me, and her anguish makes me feel worse.
“I might have an idea.” Tremayne dangles the words like bait, and we greedily swim toward the hook. My leg stops shaking, Zosia sits up straighter, and Garrett leans forward. My brother’s inner turmoil matches the sphinx’s. He has always protected me – whether I asked for it or not – but he can’t protect me from myself.
What would I be willing to do to stay here – where I belong?
The library’s power is older than time and possesses a mysticism humans can’t begin to comprehend. The library is a deity, a goddess, in my opinion. I crave her boundless acceptance. Leaving her and Zosia would be similar to death.
Without trying, the sphinx draws me closer every second I’m around her. I’ve been enamored with her since my visions offered my first glimpse. Others might see her limited mobility as a weakness or a deterrent, but I don’t.
Zosia’s authenticity is a drug. Everything about her is genuine and compelling. I am drawn to the sparks of gold in her blue irises, the burnished gold of her hair, the power of her sphinx, and her blunt manner of speaking. There is nothing fake about my little lioness.
Bonding with Zosia will bring me closer to her and the library. If it’s required, I would willingly surrender every spark of my magic.